Volatile Ingredients
by oh help
Summary: Remus turns the other cheek.


**The "Chiklets" Game Competition:** emotion: jealousy

 **All About You Challenge:** Write a scene from either Severus's or Remus's POV

* * *

If he'd have pictured Severus Snape anywhere it would have been something like this. Bitterly subservient, swishing about dim rooms like he's the king of them, stewing in the frustration of his wasted talent.

They are adults. Remus doesn't want to let who they'd been as children affect who they are as colleagues, but as he spends more time around Severus he isn't sure he's grown anything other than more resentful.

As he makes his way to the dungeons the week before the term's first full moon, he finds himself dreading this small, necessary interaction. He wants to believe the best of his old classmate, that he's become something better than what he was the same way that James did. But he's not sure. It will take this private conversation, away from the other members of staff and their influence, to know.

"You're early." Severus is squeezing some sort of fruit into a measuring glass when he arrives.

"I'm sorry."

He pours the juice carefully into his cauldron and it releases a cloud of smoke. "Perhaps I should deliver your doses to you from now on."

Remus nods, the idea of never returning to this basement office sounding not unwelcome.

"How have your classes been?" he asks as he waits, attempting cordiality.

"The usual displays of staggering incompetence," replies Severus.

Remus steadily keeps his smile. "Is that so?"

"The likes of Neville Longbottom should not be allowed near volatile ingredients." Severus does not lift his eyes from his bubbling cauldron as he ladles out a gobletful, but his voice takes on a smooth chill. "Though the safety standards of a school that would hire some… _one_ like you obviously leave something to be desired."

"Well, then." In the face of this, Remus cannot maintain pleasantness. All he can do is try not to speak with outright anger. "Consider this your duty to the students of Hogwarts."

He's not sure how he feels taking a drink from him but there's no choice. The promise of this is what drew him into the world again and he's aching for it; he's had enough of losing himself.

He swirls the smoking potion and takes a large sip, but chokes as the rancid liquid coats his tongue. "That's awful!" he gasps before he can think better of it.

A venomous smirk stretches across Severus's face. "If you knew anything about potion-making, you would know that flavoring disrupts the effect of the wolfsbane." It is unclear whether this is true, or just the measured amount of sadism he could get away with under Dumbledore's nose. Remus doesn't admit to his ignorance, doesn't want to give him the pleasure.

"I'm curious," says Severus as he's contemplating how to best finish his potion without tasting it. "How is it that you came by the Defense Against the Dark Arts position?"

Remus recalls rumors he's been told, that Severus was after the post, and hopes this isn't leading somewhere unpleasant. "The job was offered to me," he replies.

"But why now, Lupin?" Severus sneers nastily. "Were you worried that Black would come after you? To finish off the last of your little clique? They say Hogwarts is the safest place in England, you know. "

Remus fights to remain still as incredulous rage boils in him.

"Is that why Dumbledore took you in?" Severus appears to take the lack of response as permission to continue, a gleeful glint in his dark eyes. "I always knew Black was cruel. It was only a matter of time before he'd turn against his friends."

A thought strikes him like ice through his chest. Severus said he knew but had he really _known_ ; had he and Sirius met or spoken, had they crossed paths in Voldemort's service? Had he watched as James and Lily were betrayed, wanting revenge against the friend who left him and the man she chose?

He holds his breath and downs the rest of his goblet.

There have been times in his life when he was a prisoner of envy. He's fallen into the trap of wishing, anger at things he cannot change and people who don't need to worry about them. But jealousy is exhausting. He doesn't envy Severus his grudges, or his cold life driven by past slights.

He has always believed in turning the other cheek. But Severus, he has let others make him vicious. Remus can understand. But he has no respect for that.

"Thank you for the potion," he says without a hint of kindness, and sets his goblet on a desk as he leaves.


End file.
